All for the Love of Maple Syrup  First Meetings
by Kishiro Kitsune
Summary: Companion to AftLoMS. Hyperactive Gil moves next door to shy little Mattie and a friendship to last ages is formed. SciFi nerd Al happens upon a quiet Asian named Kiku and latches onto the first person who has ever understood him. The birth of friendships
1. Gil and Mattie

Though this is a companion to _All for the Love of Maple Syrup_, if you've never read any of it, you should be able to understand this. After all, this is all about how various characters met one another.

All for the Love of Maple Syrup

**First Meetings**

Matthew and Gilbert.

The summer Matthew turned seven was the year the elderly couple next door moved to a warmer climate, making way for a new family in the neighbourhood. It just so happened that in that family were two boys around the same age as Matthew.

Ms. Williams combed her fingers through Matthew's golden curls and wiped a smudge from his cheek before deeming him presentable. She'd dressed him in a Montreal Canadiens jacket earlier that day, but he'd spilled his grape juice all over it and so she was forced to change him into his favourite red one. She hated it. It had all sorts of rips and tears in it and mysterious stains that wouldn't come out no matter what she did. However, she knew she'd never get him out of the house if she didn't let him wear it.

She stood up and took a box of home-made cookies from the counter and handed it to her son.

Matthew tightened his grip around his fluffy polar bear, staring unsurely at the cookies.

"Kumajiro can go too," Ms. Williams said gently. "Hold him with one arm. There you go! Now lets go welcome our new neighbours."

Matthew shook his head, which messed up his soft curls. His mom could only sigh when his one stubborn looping curl came free to hang in front of his face.

"We'll just be over there for a few minutes, sweetheart. Then we can come home and have lunch. We'll make pancakes."

Matthew smiled and nodded, happy to follow his mom next door with the promise of his favourite food. However, by the time they were standing at the neighbour's front door, he wanted nothing more than to turn around and run home.

His mom kept him anchored to her side as she knocked on the front door. She didn't have a problem until the door was opened by a tall, intimidating man with long blond hair. Matthew squeaked in fright and hid behind her.

"Matthew, don't be rude," scolded Ms. Williams. "I'm sorry, sir, usually he's so polite. I'm Katherine Williams and this is my son, Matthew. We live next door."

"Wilhelm Beilschmidt," he introduced in a heavy German accent. "Nice to meet you."

"Welcome to the neighbourhood! If you ever need anything, feel free to ask," said Ms. Williams. She tried to tug Matthew out from behind her. "Sweetheart, won't you give Mr. Beilschmidt the cookies we made?"

Trembling, Matthew stepped out from behind his mom just long enough to hand over the box of cookies before hiding again. Unfortunately, it was too late. He'd already been spotted by the Beilschmidt children.

One of them, a boy with choppy silver-coloured hair who appeared to be the same age as Matthew, was carrying his little brother on his back. He walked over to his father's side and put down the small blond boy.

"My sons," Mr. Beilschmidt introduced. "Gilbert and Ludwig. Boys, these are our neighbours."

The silvery-white haired boy began chattering almost immediately. "Hi, I'm Gilbert! And this is Luddy! Isn't he cute?" He grinned and hugged his little brother, who stood there staring blankly at the ground.

Ms. Williams knelt down with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Gilbert. I'm Ms. Williams and this is my son, Matthew." She gently steered him around her and held him in place, praying his shyness wouldn't result in him bursting into tears like he did the last time she encouraged him to make friends.

Gilbert grinned. "Awesome bear."

Matthew stared at him in wonder. Most kids made fun of him for carrying around Kumajiro. He smiled hesitantly, hugging the toy to his chest. "Th-thanks…"

"Wanna go play? I wanna explore the backyard!" Gilbert announced.

Matthew looked to his mom for permission. "Can I?"

"Of course, sweetie," said Ms. Williams, relieved her efforts were finally starting to pay off. She ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead. "Have fun!"

"Awesome!" Gilbert exclaimed, already heading for the backyard. "Let's go, Birdie!"

Matthew hurried after him. "Birdie?"

"Yeah! 'Cause you're quiet and fluffy and adorable, just like a little bird! And birds are awesome!"

"O-oh. Okay."

Ms. Williams beamed ad stood up, watching the two run off and play.

"Interesting," Mr. Beilschmidt murmured. "I've never seen him make a friend so quickly. He mostly just plays with Ludwig.

His words got the attention of Ms. Williams and she couldn't help but feel even happier with the way things were going. "Matthew's so shy that he never talks to anyone. This is a first for him too. Maybe they were just waiting for each other."

"Perhaps. Would you like to come in?"

Ms. Williams balked for a moment. "Oh… oui, eh, yes. If I'm not intruding. Is there a good place to watch the boys from?"

Mr. Beilschmidt nodded. "In the kitchen. Watch your step, we're still unpacking."

* * *

><p>End<p>

* * *

><p>Oh, what am I doing, starting another side project?<p>

This is a companion piece to _All for the Love of Maple Syrup_, focusing on how various characters came to meet each other. So far I have planned

- Alfred and Kiku  
>- Gilbert and Elizaveta<br>- Matthew and Ivan  
>- Matthew and Alfred<p>

And I dunno who else. There's so many I could do, I just need to figure out how they met. **Any requests**?


	2. Gil and Eli

All for the Love of Maple Syrup

**First Meetings**

Gilbert and Eli.

Gilbert hated being separated from Matthew. It wasn't fair! Why couldn't they be in the same grade? He wouldn't mind going back to first grade. Or Matthew could move up to second grade! He was smart enough!

He huffed and slumped in his desk, daring anyone to come close. To his relief, everyone was too busy talking to old friends to pay attention to the strange albino sitting in the back row. He didn't bother getting up to talk to any of them. He could already tell they wouldn't be as awesome as Mattie, who was almost as awesome as he was.

Gilbert busied himself by getting a head start on the name card for his desk, carefully writing out his last name in bold letters.

"Hey, you!"

Annoyed at having been interrupted, Gilbert looked up and scowled at the brown-haired boy standing in front of him with his hands on his hips.

"My name's Eli, what's yours?" He asked.

Gilbert glared at him. "Why should I tell you?"

"Because I'm curious," Eli replied. "I've never seen you around here before. You must be new." His forest green eyes landed on Gilbert's name card. "Bel-? shmi-schmit-? No. Beilschmidt? Oh, you're German! I'm Hungarian! Or my parents were. I was born here in Ontario." He leaned down for a better look at Gilbert's face. "Oh neat! Your eyes are red!"

_Neat?_ The boy's words echoed in his mind and he finally met his gaze head on. Gilbert smirked confidently. "Of course they're neat. I'm awesome like that."

Eli laughed and took a seat at the desk next to him. "You have a first name or am I gonna call you Awesome Beilschmidt?"

"Gilbert."

Eli grinned. "Gil it is!"

The two remained friends until Christmas break, at which point Eli's parents moved back to Hungary, leaving Gilbert without a friend in his class. Rather than sulk, he pretended like it didn't bother him and began spending more time with Matthew, slowly drawing the Canadian out of his shell.

* * *

><p>End<p>

* * *

><p>...It looks much shorter when separated from the main document. There will be a part two to this, later on.<p> 


	3. Al and Kiku

All for the Love of Maple Syrup

**First Meetings**

Alfred and Kiku.

Alfred was weird.

He was weird in an open, friendly sort of way. He could talk to anyone, get along with anyone, but he didn't have an actual friend. No one invited him to sleepovers when he was younger. No one asked him to tag along to ballgames or to come over for a cookout. The only sort of attention he got from girls was a laughter when he proved just what a geek he was, perfectly quoting Star Trek or reciting scientific theories most sixth graders cared to know nothing about. He would have fit in with the other geeks of the school if he weren't so into sports.

He loved football, baseball, soccer—anything that let him run around outside. At the same time, he cried at sad movies and was terrified of horror films.

Kiku was just as weird.

He was a quiet Asian in a small country town. He could build amazing working gadgets and robots and then turn around and start playing a video game or watch "cartoons". He wasn't into sports as much as Alfred, though he did enjoy a game of soccer every now and then. He preferred things like karate and kendo, which he was learning from his father.

When the two "weird" teens met on the first day of sixth grade, it was only natural that they gravitated towards each other.

Alfred was enthusiastically quoting William Shatner's opening speech to Star Trek when Kiku entered the room. The blond had jumped up onto a desk, sporting a shiny triangular pin attached to his yellow shirt.

"Space! The final frontier! These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise and its seven-year mission to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life, to boldly go where no man has gone before!"

One of the boys laughed mockingly. "Get off the desk and stop embarrassing yourself, star geek!"

Alfred blushed and hopped down amidst laughter from his other new classmates. He fidgeted with his pin, debating whether or not to take it off when a short Asian boy approached him.

"I don't think it was dumb," he told Alfred, who grinned broadly.

"Thanks! The only person who thinks the same is my dad, but he's my dad so he doesn't count," Alfred said. "So what's your name?"

"O-oh, um, Hon- no, Kiku? Honda? Ano…"

Alfred laughed, not mockingly but in good humor, smiling at the other boy. "Dude, slow down. First name, then last name. It's easy!"

The boy flushed. "I'm sorry… I'm Kiku Honda."

"Cool. I'm Alfred F. Jones! Wanna guess what the 'F' stands for?"

"Ano…"

"Freedom!" Alfred shouted, pointing a finger into the air. He grinned when Kiku only smiled politely, his hands folded lightly over his front. "Hey, if I ever annoy you or anything, just let me know. Or if I ever bore you with science facts or challenge you to a contest to name the elements of the periodic table in order—"

"Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium, Boron, Carbon, umm…Nitrogen, Oxygen, Fluorine….." Kiku recited, trailing off when he noticed he was being stared at.

Alfred gaped at him. "You… I can't believe it. Can I… Can I give you a hug? Most people laugh at me when I do that, so dude, seriously, I'd like to give you a huge hug."

Kiku shied away. "I don't really feel comfortable with touching, Jones-kun. Is a handshake okay?"

"Sure. But, y'know, one day I'll break you of your 'no touching' rule."

And he did.

* * *

><p>End<p>

* * *

><p>I have to admit, Alfred and Kiku's first meeting is my favorite of all the one's I've written so far.<p> 


	4. Gilbert and Elizaveta

All for the Love of Maple Syrup

**First Meetings**

Gilbert and Elizaveta.

Ninth grade.

It was Gilbert's least favourite year. He and Matthew were in entirely different schools and only saw each other on the bus. He had braces. His dad had given him a horrible buzz cut and he wanted nothing more than to steal one of Mattie's dorky blue-and-white Maple Leafs toques in order to hide his hair until it grew back out.

Three months into school, things hadn't gotten any better.

"Settle down, settle down!" Shouted the crabby teacher. The old woman, whose hair dye did nothing to hide the gray of her roots, walked to the front of the room with a pretty girl with long brown hair. She looked like a prissy little thing, with her long green skirt and black turtleneck sweater.

Gilbert slumped in his seat as he watched her, wondering why she seemed familiar somehow.

"Take a seat, everyone!"

Slowly, the class got under control, each student taking their assigned seat. Gilbert continued to stare at the new girl. Where had he seen her before? _Green eyes and brown hair…_

"This is Elizaveta Héderváry and she is joining us from Hungary, so forgive her for her imperfect English."

Elizaveta smiled and said, in perfect English tinged with an accent, "It's nice to meet everyone."

* * *

><p>Gilbert was still trying to figure it out when lunch rolled around. He was sitting in the courtyard by himself, a Prussian blue scarf wrapped firmly around his neck to help him stay warm in the chilly autumn air. His lunchbox, specially made to look like the flag of his favorite country (Prussia, of course), was resting next to him, the lid flipped open to reveal the food and two juice boxes inside. He'd already read the sweet note Ms. Williams wrote him and it was tucked securely away so the wind couldn't carry it off.<p>

"Hey, you!"

Gilbert scowled as he looked up, meeting the green eyes of the new student. "Isn't it a little cold for a girl to be outside?"

Elizaveta raised an eyebrow. "I could ask you the same. Why are you out here by yourself, anyway?"

"Maybe I like the cold," Gilbert said.

She laughed and took a seat next to him on the frigid concrete wall. Gilbert gaped at her as she shivered once and then began unpacking her carefully made lunch, clearly dead-set on sitting outside with him.

"You're weird," Gilbert told her.

"Says the one who was sitting outside in the cold by himself," retorted Elizaveta. She calmly began to eat, paying no mind to his grumbling. It was only once Gilbert also started eating that she sighed softly and lowered her sandwich from her mouth. "You really don't remember me, do you?"

"Huh?" Gilbert asked with a mouthful of a food.

Elizaveta smiled sadly. "You know, I wasn't born in Hungary. I was born here in this town and lived here up until a few years ago when my parents wanted to go back to Hungary to take care of great grandma. I left behind a great friend. The worst part is, I didn't even get to say goodbye."

Gilbert stopped chewing. Her story was so familiar. Just as familiar as she felt to him! Why?

Why did he feel like he knew her? He'd never had a friend who was a girl, though sometimes he felt Matthew came pretty close. In fact, it'd just been him, Ludwig, and Matthew for as long as he could remember! Except for briefly in the second grade. What was that kid's name?

Brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Forest green eyes. A wry grin that typically meant nothing but trouble.

Eli.

Gilbert blinked, comparing the image in his mind to the girl next to him, slowly piecing things together.

_Eli. Eli_zaveta.

"Fuck. Fuuuuuuck." Gilbert groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "Damn it. You were supposed to be a guy, not some weak ass chick!"

Elizaveta raised an eyebrow. "I bet I could still kick your butt at anything you challenge me to! Name a sport or game and I'll beat your ass into the ground!"

Gilbert sat up straight, meeting her challenge head-on without a second thought. "Fine! After school! We'll have a race. First one to complete two laps on the track wins. I'll get Mr. Fritz to time us."

"You're on!" Elizaveta said, her eyes gleaming in excitement. She couldn't stop a broad grin from spreading across her face as she reached out for a handshake.

Gilbert matched her grin with a smirk and shook her hand.

Perhaps his year wasn't going to be as bad as he originally thought.


	5. Nikolai and Soren

All for the Love of Maple Syrup

**First Meetings**

Nikolai and Soren

Nikolai had never cared much for other people. He felt he could be happy spending his whole life with only his younger brother as a friend. In his opinion, people were idiots who thrived on drama of any kind. Although he had fun watching the fools amble along, he had no desire to be part of it.

He heard all of the rumors people spread about him. How could he not? They were all so open about how weird they thought he was. Some thought he was just shy. Some thought he was stuck up; that he thought he was better than everyone else. Others had far more outrageous theories: He was an alien. A vampire. Some sort of creature pretending to be human. A government experiment. A time traveling robot from the future.

His personal favorite was the theory that he was some sort of witch and that he could cast curses on people.

Nikolai ignored all of those people. They were the ones he cared for the least.

He managed to avoid bullying for most of his life. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd been cornered by some of the bigger boys who wanted nothing more than to pummel him into the ground because he was a "freak". Luckily for him, there had always been a teacher nearby to put an end to it.

He made it through his first year of high school without trouble. It was during his second year that something changed.

Nikolai had been having a good week. Everyone was too focused on the boisterous new kid to care about boring, antisocial Nikolai. Everyone except the usual three who were the main source of his annoyance.

He didn't even flinch when his locker door was slammed shut in his face.

"Well if it isn't little Christensen. No teacher's around to help you this time," one taunted.

Nikolai pressed his lips tightly together. He wouldn't rise to their bait. He wouldn't fight back. The only reason they didn't target him more often was because he didn't react, which made it less fun for them. He knew there were others they would much rather be tormenting at that moment.

"Say something, freak," another demanded, shoving him into the lockers. "Are you deaf? Speak!"

"You know he won't," spoke up the third.

The first bully smirked. "Why don't we try something different this time. If asking him to speak doesn't work, then we'll beat it out of him."

A faint glimmer of worry sparked to life in Nikolai's eyes, though none of the three noticed. His heart rate sped up as the other two agreed with the first. Physical violence wasn't something he was accustomed to. He'd seen them shove around other people, but he'd ever been on the receiving end.

The first blow came without warning, knocking him squarely in the jaw. His head snapped back against metal, making a raucous sound. One of the bullies cursed, knowing the sound would attract unwanted attention, and then they pulled him away from the wall of lockers and shoved him to the ground. His belongings scattered across the floor with a clatter and they laughed jeeringly. He wasn't sure which one of them did it, but a booted foot made contact with his ribs once and then twice. He closed his eyes and tried to curl in on himself. They pulled his hair, delivered another sound punch to his face, to his legs, to his arms.

There was a squeak of shoes on the floor and Nikolai knew there would soon be a teacher on the way.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Suddenly, the beating stopped. Nikolai heard someone curse and slam into the lockers. He dared to open his eyes just in time to watch his tormentors run away. Standing over him, breathing heavily, was an unfamiliar boy with carefully spiked blond hair. Once he was sure the trio was gone, he turned around to face Nikolai.

"They really did a number on you, huh?" He stepped forward and knelt down, a frown marring his moderately handsome face. "I'd ask if you're okay, but no one's okay after getting beat up. I ought to get you to the nurse and let her look you over." He held out his hand with a reassuring smile.

Nikolai ignored him, sitting up to gather his books instead, ignoring the blossoms of pain that sprung up with every movement.

The new kid's smile slipped. He knelt there for a moment, watching Nikolai pick up his stuff. Then he sighed and began to help out. To Nikolai's annoyance, he also started to talk again.

"You're pretty quiet, huh? That's okay. People tell me I talk too much, so that means I can talk enough for the both of us! I'm Soren Kholer, by the way. I just moved here from Denmark! You know, you're pretty tough. Most people would cry after a beating like the one you took, but you're going on like nothing's happened!"

Nikolai fought to keep his annoyance in check. It was difficult. It'd been quite some time since someone outside of his family last attempted to talk to him. With barely feigned patience, he took his belongings back from Soren and shakily stood up before walking away.

Soren gave chase. "Hey, wait up! You never told me your name!"

Nikolai ignored him, pushing open the front doors to slip outside and get in his parent's car. As they pulled away, he glanced back to see his savior standing on the sidewalk with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

When he arrived at school the next morning, Nikolai thought for sure that Soren would have forgotten all about him. People as different as they were didn't become friends. It would never work.

He sat down at his desk and pulled out the appropriate textbook as well as a sheet of paper and a pencil, ready to take notes.

"Hey, Norge!"

A pair of hands slapped onto his desk and Nikolai looked up into a pair of bright blue eyes and a dazzling toothy smile. He clenched his hand into a fist, fighting the overpowering urge to smack the happiness right off of the other teen's face.

"Pretty clever nickname, right? Since you don't want to tell me your real name, I'm gonna call you 'Norge'," Soren said. "You can give me a nickname too, if you want!"

Nikolai narrowed his eyes. He didn't want to speak to the idiot hovering around him. He just wanted to be left alone! Was that so difficult to understand? Everyone else understood that he didn't like talking to people. Everyone else had given up after the first day of trying.

Fortunately, the teacher walked in and began class before Soren could talk any more.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

That wasn't the end of it. Not by a long shot. Soren followed Nikolai around for the rest of the day, talking about whatever foolish thing that popped into his mind. Nikolai tried his hardest to get away from the stubborn teen, using every trick he knew, but even when he managed to escape to the roof during lunch it didn't take longer than five minutes before that damnable Dane was sitting next to him, grinning from ear to ear.

Nikolai felt his patience thoroughly tested - poked, prodded, pushed to the point of breaking. No one had ever managed to get under his skin.

Soren was something new, something dangerous.

He didn't give up.

Day after day, he stuck near Nikolai, making no real effort to force him to talk. He seemed happy to chatter on, even if his companion wasn't listening.

It took two weeks for Nikolai to realize he actually _was_ listening. Really, truly listening. While he could name every other student at their school and say who they spent their time with, their habits, and what they ate for lunch every day, he knew enough to say he could write a multi-page biography on Soren.

He knew his full name - Soren Matthias Kholer.

He knew he was born and raised in a small town on the island Sjælland, somewhat close to Copenhagen. He grew up in a loving household with his mom, dad, and pet cat.

He knew the reason Soren moved to Norway was because of his father's job and that his mother - who spoke only Danish - was absolutely miserable in their new home.

He knew what sort of music he liked to listen to, that he'd always wished he had a younger sibling, that he was more of a cat person than a dog person, that he was an amazing baker - though he'd never tell his family - and made his own lunch every day, and the name of his friends when he was growing up.

He knew his favorite color, brand of socks, class, drinks, and a multitude of other little things.

What he didn't know was why Soren seemed to like him so much.

Why him?

There were so many other people Soren could waste his time with. People who would talk to him, laugh at his stupid jokes, hang out with him after school and on weekends…

Nikolai couldn't figure it out and it was driving him mad.

Week three arrived and Nikolai took a seat at his desk, steeling himself for Soren's boisterous arrival. He calmly went about his usual business, preparing himself for the first class of the day.

A minute passed. Then another.

Nikolai looked up, wondering where the Dane was at. It wasn't like him to run late.

Not that he was worried! Why would he be worried about that imbecilic boy? The very idea was laughable!

He fidgeted with his pencil, twirling it between his fingers. The second he realized what he was doing, he narrowed his eyes at his hand, feeling as though it's betrayed him in some way. A glance at the classroom clock told him he had ten minutes until the start of class.

Nikolai quietly stood and slipped out of the room, knowing that no one would dare touch his belongings with the teacher around. He walked through the halls, trying not to make it obvious that he was looking for someone. People stared at him, unused to seeing him wander around.

"What's so interesting about him anyway? Why waste your time with that loser?"

"He's more interesting than you think."

Nikolai froze. That was Soren's voice. He slowly walked over to the juncture between halls, keeping close to the wall so he wouldn't be spotted. A quick glance around the corner confirmed that Soren was talking to a few of the most popular girls in their grade.

One girl huffed. "There's nothing even remotely interesting about that freak. Besides, haven't you heard the stories about him? You'd be much better off staying away from someone like him."

"Wouldn't you rather spend time with us?" Questioned another girl. "You could easily become the most popular guy at school if you'd just ditch him."

"No. I don't care about any of that." Soren's voice contained none of his usual upbeat emotion. If anything, he sounded angry. "It doesn't matter to me that he doesn't talk. If he doesn't want to, I'm not going to make him. He listens to me. I know he pretends not to, but he does. There's all these little things he does that are so interesting!" The warmth returned to his voice. "Like when he smiles when he thinks I'm not looking."

Nikokai frowned. He did _not_ smile, especially not at school. His younger brother was the only one who could get him to smile. Obviously Soren was just imagining things.

"He waits for me, I've noticed. I wonder if he even realizes it… He doesn't start eating until I arrive. He'll put his book away when I start talking to him. When it's time to change classrooms, he'll wait for me to finish putting up my stuff before leaving."

With each word, Nikolai paled.

_How_ had the Dane picked up on all of that? He'd been so careful to not show that he maybe enjoyed the company. There was no way Soren was astute enough to have noticed all of that!

He'd heard enough. He knew he had underestimated the other teen, but knowing the full extent was too much. Nikolai couldn't let it continue. Soren would soon tire of trying to befriend him, just like everyone else. He might as well hurry it along.

Nikolai was honestly surprised by how easy it became to avoid Soren. It was as simple as breaking his routine, picking a new spot to eat lunch, walking away when the Dane was in the middle of a sentence or just settling down to eat.

He tried to ignore the feeling of guilt that settled in the pit of his stomach and grew every time he caught a glimmer of hurt in those bright blue eyes.

And then, suddenly, it all stopped.

Soren stopped sitting near him. He stopped following him around. He stopped trying to talk to him. He stopped looking at him. He stopped smiling.

Somehow, that was all much worse than his attempts at befriending Nikolai.

It wasn't even three days before Nikolai grew angry with Soren's behavior. It figured that it rained on the forth day and that was when Nikolai finally snapped.

When lunch rolled around, Soren vanished. Nikolai didn't pay it much attention, too busy fighting off the unfamiliar impulse to march over to the other teen and yell at him for his behavior. Only when lunch ended and classes resumed did Nikolai become aware of the fact that something wasn't right.

Soren was missing.

Nikolai tried to tell himself he didn't care. Why should it matter to him that the idiot was missing class? It didn't! He didn't care! Soren could do whatever he wanted!

He was out of the classroom the second the bell rang.

If that idiot was where he thought he was, he would never forgive him.

He was unhindered by anyone as he made his way to the very top floor. Ignoring the signs which prohibited students from entering, he opened the door giving access to the roof and made his way up the final flight of stairs. He left his belongings at the top of the stairs before pushing open the last door.

He stepped out into the cool rain, his gaze fixated on the figure sanding near a chainlink fence along the outer wall. He was silent as he walked over to the other teen.

Soren's eyes went wide at the sight of him. "Nor-"

"You're an idiot," Nikolai cut in bitterly, crossing his arms over his chest. He stared out over the parking lot.

Soren was quiet for a moment before a grin began to spread across his face. "You're talking to me."

"Unfortunately."

Soren laughed, pure joy ringing in the air. He calmed down after a few seconds, though his grin and happiness didn't dim in the least. "I knew you liked me! You had me worried for a while, when you suddenly started to avoid me."

Nikolai said nothing.

"Norge? Are you okay?" Soren asked.

The shorter of the two sighed and turned around, leaning back against the fence. "It's Nikolai."

"Huh?"

"My name, moron. It's Nikolai Christensen, not Norge."

Soren stared at him for a long moment, his grin changing to a smile. "I know."

That, more than anything else, was what shattered Nikolai's calmness into a thousand tiny shards, releasing a tsunami of pent up stress and frustration that had built up since he met the infuriating boy.

"You know," repeated Nikolai with a hiss. "If you've known, then why call me 'Norge' this whole time? And why that name? Where do you get off with following me around all the damn time, telling me all about your life, knowing I would never tel you anything about myself? Tell me! What's the point? Why me? Why am I so interesting to you? I'm boring! Dull! There's nothing remotely interesting about me! And besides that, you've heard the rumors. _I've_ heard the rumors! I'm a freak! I'm strange!" He laughed bitterly. "Everything they say about me, how do you know none of it's true?"

Soren was extraordinarily patient while he waited for the explosion to subside. "I just wanted you to tell me yourself."

That simple sentence was enough to return some calm to Nikolai's visage. Of _course _it was something so stupidly simple and innocent. He shouldn't have expected anything else.

Before his annoyance could fade completely, he reached over and flicked Soren on the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?"

Feeling a little better, Nikolai let his usual mask of indifference fall over his face. Soren rubbed his arm with a pout, but it wasn't long before he was smiling again.

"I knew it was worth waiting for you," Soren said. "No one else did. But there's just something about you that pulls me in."

"Shut up, Soren."

His grin returned. "You say that, but you really want me to keep talking. I have a whole list of things I like about you. Wanna hear them?"

Nikolai glared up at him. "No, I-" He stopped suddenly, realizing the other teen was just teasing him. He scowled.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

"First of all, I like your eyes."

"…"

"Then there's your smile."

"…"

"The way your forehead crinkles when you _really_ want to yell at me. Kind of like right now!"

"…"

"How you pretend to ignore-_Oooomph!"_

Nikolai nonchalantly removed his elbow from Soren's gut as he clicked his seatbelt into place. On one side of him, his younger brother was gaping at him in disbelief. In the front seat, his parents were exchanging looks of confusion. On his other side, Soren was laughing while trying to catch his breath.

"I told you not to," Nikolai muttered, settling in for a long car ride. He never should have volunteered to give Soren a ride home that day.

.

* * *

><p>End<p>

* * *

><p>.<p>

**This will be the last one for a while.** I really need to focus on some other things.


End file.
